


The Wrong Side of Heaven

by PrimaryScavQueen



Category: 12 Monkeys (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post Primary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 04:15:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6784807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrimaryScavQueen/pseuds/PrimaryScavQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's not broken.</p><p>Deacon never thought she was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wrong Side of Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Author's Note: Unbeta-ed and written fast. This scene wouldn't leave my head. I'm hardcore shipping Cassie/Deacon right now and I make no apologies. I may rewrite this later.

“He looks at me like I’m broken.”

Cassie’s voice stilled his hand as it dragged the hunting knife’s blade across the whetstone. Deacon’s eyes flicked up at her, found her on the makeshift bed where he had left her dozing. It was a simple mattress, one he had found still wrapped in its plastic during an excursion into the ruins of Philly. It was firm and the springs creaked and groaned softly anytime someone moved but it was far better than the cot they had shared for the first two months after her arrival. 

She was sitting up now, back against the wall, slim legs brought up to her chest. Her blonde hair was loose and down around her shoulders in soft, frothy waves. He wasn’t an optimistic man, but he considered himself lucky. And frankly, fucking grateful she lowered her standards to join him each night when she dragged herself away from the mission and back to his room.  


He studied the long length of her legs and the expanse of pale, smooth skin. Everything about her said soft, delicate; none of the attributes that were fit for this world…

Except her eyes. Her green eyes were hard as the stone on the table and as sharp as the blade in his hand.

A vague feeling of pride stirred. He was proud of the warrior he had shaped and honed, made as deadly as she was beautiful. She still didn’t fit in this world but she now had fighting chance. His eyes briefly dipped to the scar that marred her waist, just above her right hip. It was still red and angry looking thanks to Dr. Grimm’s handy work but it was better than the alternative.

“Cole’s a fucking self righteous idiot that’s up on his high horse.” He replied simply, returning to sharpening the knife.

Her quiet snort drew his attention from his task once more. “I swear if he apologizes once more, I’m going to need that knife to stab him in the nuts.”

An amused smile brought up the corners of his mouth. “I was sharpening it for you anyways.”

“Who says romance is dead?” She murmured, words faintly laced with sarcasm.

“Seriously, Cass,” His eyes met hers, “You’re not the woman he knew but you’re sure as fuck not broken.”

“I know.” Her voice was firm and she lifted her chin ever so much, “I’m okay with who I am. It just kills me that he sees me like I’m some…victim. And then he tries to take responsibility…” She ran her hand through her hair and he followed the movement as it lifted her tits invitingly, “I made the choice to survive.”

With effort, he brought his eyes up from her chest. “You made the right choice.”

“I know I did. I have no regrets, Deacon.” 

He lifted the knife and pressed the freshly sharpened tip against his palm. The sharp sting radiated instantly as it bit into his skin. “None?”

Her eyes were glued to the blade before she met his. “None.”


End file.
